


Close Enough to Touch

by callay



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, M/M, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Smut, Stomach kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: He imagines the darkness in Credence is reaching out to him, churning through Credence to press itself close to him, right on the other side of Credence’s thin, thin skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://calllay.tumblr.com/). I was inspired by [this gorgeous fanart](http://ohbamby.tumblr.com/post/154940957552/sorry-not-sorry) by [ohbamby](http://ohbamby.tumblr.com/) and then took it in a new and exciting obscurus direction.
> 
> (Imagine some kind of alternate ending where Graves and Credence run off together.)

After they flee the subway station, Graves dreams every night of the obscurus, and wakes breathless, desperate to take it for his own.

But the obscurus doesn’t reemerge, so instead he takes Credence.

And Credence is so easy to take. After what happened he is quieter than ever, tenser, more desperate than ever for reassurance. For touch. So Graves kisses him, and Credence gasps and his mouth falls open under Graves’, soft and yielding.

After that, Graves carefully teases out all the other ways to make Credence gasp, the ways to make him blush, the ways to make him shrink back, alarmed, only to lean forward into Graves’ touch a heartbeat later.

Today he catches him in the kitchen of their tiny, hidden apartment, and tells him, “Sit down.”

And Credence does, nervous but unfailingly obedient, folding himself into one of the hard wooden chairs. Graves steps closer and brings his hands to Credence’s throat to undo his narrow necktie. Credence stiffens when he does, but doesn’t move.

“Good boy,” murmurs Graves, and he hears Credence’s breath catch. A pink flush spreads over Credence’s cheeks, as easy as that, like spilling a glass of wine.

Carefully Graves undoes the buttons of Credence’s vest, then his shirt. He could use magic, of course, but right now he prefers to do it by hand, slowly, so he can feel the way nervous anticipation makes Credence’s chest shudder under his fingers.

When he slips free the last button and lets Credence’s shirt fall open, he pauses to glance up at Credence’s face. Credence’s eyes are dark with need and his cheeks are red with a desperate, blotchy flush, bold and messy against his delicate features. All this just from proximity, from suggestion. He already looks ruined without Graves ever having to touch his skin.

Graves swallows a fierce rush of hunger, letting his eyes slide down to the sharp jut of Credence’s collarbone, the elegant curves of his ribs, his thin, trembling stomach. It’s hard to believe this delicate body could also hold within it the vast, dark, destructive force of the obscurus. To fit inside Credence, the obscurus must be positively brimming over, pressing and jostling among Credence’s bones, waiting in his throat and behind his eyes for the chance to be free –

The thought quickens Graves’ breath. It’s intoxicating: the fragility of Credence’s body makes the power of the obscurus that much more dangerous and thrilling, and the seething threat of the obscurus makes Credence that much more precious.

He steps closer and presses both hands to Credence’s chest. “Stay still, now.”

Credence’s eyes fall closed and his lips part around a gasp as Graves touches him. His skin is soft and fragile, stretched over the edges of his bones, barely containing the warm pulse of his blood. Graves can feel under his hands the quick pound of Credence’s heart and the uneven swell of his lungs.

Credence stays silent except for the shuddering gasp of his breath. Graves can feel the tension in his muscles, the urge to push up into Graves’ touch, but Credence stays still and lets Graves touch him. Even when Graves brushes his thumbs over Credence’s nipples, small and pink, Credence’s moan is no more than a breath.

“Good boy,” says Graves again, and Credence shivers helplessly, his eyes tightly closed.

He’s heartbreakingly human. It makes Graves wants to swallow him whole, to bite the red from his cheeks like an apple, to tear open the fragile shell of him and see what’s inside.

Instead he goes to his knees in front of the chair.

“Oh,” says Credence, tensing, pushing himself back against the back of the chair. But Graves curls his hands around Credence’s sides and pulls him closer, right to the edge of the chair, in front of Graves. “Ah –“

“Shh,” breathes Graves, and he leans in and kisses Credence’s stomach.

Credence’s breath catches and Graves can feel it, the muscles tensed under Credence’s soft skin. He presses his lips to him eagerly, tasting him, feeling the pulse of blood and the shudder of his breath when Credence is finally forced to breathe out, with a tiny groan, his hands clutching desperately at Graves’ arms.

Graves kisses Credence hungrily, letting his mouth trail along Credence’s stomach. He imagines the darkness in Credence is reaching out to him, churning through Credence to press itself close to him, right on the other side of Credence’s thin, thin skin. The thought makes him dizzy with desire. He pushes his whole face against Credence’s stomach, his mouth moving wetly against Credence’s skin, feeling the gentle warm friction of him.

Credence is still and quiet under him, or as still and quiet as he can be – he still shivers and tenses at Graves’ touch, fingers twisting Graves’ coat where he’s gripping the sleeves of it, head falling back against the chair. His breath comes in tiny, helpless bursts, the barest hints of groans.

When Graves bites down on him, though – tilting his head, relishing the tautness of Credence’s skin under his teeth – Credence cries out, a desperate, overwhelmed sound, his whole body jerking.

Gently Graves lets him go, and kisses the already-pinking spot where he bit him, and then sits back and looks up.

Credence is looking down at him, his lips parted, the red flush on his cheeks spread down his neck to his heaving chest. When his gaze meets Graves’, the wetness in his eyes immediately starts to bead into tears.

“Sweet boy,” murmurs Graves. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” breathes Credence, closing his eyes. “Not – not much. I just…”

“Is it too much?”

Credence nods.

“I’m sorry,” says Graves, his voice low, more of a promise than an apology. He leans in to press himself to Credence’s skin, and opens his mouth, letting his teeth scrape against Credence, who shudders and tries to pull away – but Graves is good for his word and doesn’t bite down, only presses his tongue against Credence and licks him, a wet trail across his abdomen. Credence swallows a whimper.

“I’ll take care of you,” Graves tells him, pressing the vibrations of his words into Credence’s skin. “I’ll take care of you, my lovely, deadly boy.” And Credence reacts beautifully, gasping in a breath and arcing his back just a little to push into Graves’ touch.

But when Graves brings his hands to the fly of Credence’s trousers, Credence grows tense and ashamed again. “Don’t,” he gasps. “Oh, don’t –”

But Graves ignores him, and opens Credence’s trousers, and lets Credence’s cock slip free and stand up hard and trembling by his stomach as Credence breathes out a desperate noise of need like a sob.

As flushed as Credence’s face is, his cock is darker, straining up with a delicious desperation, with precome beading on the tip like a tear. Graves wants nothing more than to swallow it, so he does.

Credence cries out, hips jerking helplessly, and Graves groans a response around his cock. Credence’s cock is hot in his mouth, skin silk-soft around the hardness of it, tasting of slick precome, better than anything Graves truly deserves –

But Graves, with the inevitable slide of obsession, starts to think of the obscurus again.

If it emerged, he thinks, why not like this, blooming from Credence like a dark flower, spilling itself directly into Graves. Suddenly it’s all he can think of – He wants to feel the obscurus in his throat, in his stomach, filling him to the brim with dark power –

Credence, ignorant of these thoughts, only trembles, shuddering with his whole body, first arching his back to push his hips up and then curling helplessly forward over Graves. His voice is a desperate gasp. “I’m – Mr. Graves, I –”

Graves drags his head back and sucks hard on the head of Credence’s cock, tonguing greedily at the slit, and he can feel the tension that rushes through Credence, the breathless pause in the moment before he cries out, hips jerking, cock pulsing against Graves’ tongue, spilling himself into Graves’ mouth.

And –

And it’s slick and salty and unmagical, and Credence, gasping and trembling under Graves, is only a spent human boy.

It’s not the overwhelming rush of power from Graves’ fantasies, but it’s still a warm thrill of success. Graves sits back and takes in Credence – red-cheeked, breathing hard, with tears on his cheeks and the mark of Graves’ teeth on his stomach, his cock pink and wet – and is entirely pleased.

Credence is his. The rest will come soon.

“Good boy,” says Graves, and watches the shiver work its way down Credence’s body.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [calllay](http://calllay.tumblr.com/post/156050703064/close-enough-to-touch-callay-fantastic-beasts) on Tumblr!


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